


Bottled Glory

by squeezedoutofmiracles



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Brotherhood, Gen, Highly Coveted Nail Polish, war boys don't know nail polish is for external use only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squeezedoutofmiracles/pseuds/squeezedoutofmiracles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>squeezedoutofmiracles:</p><p>Imagine the war boys finding a sparkly silver bottle of nail polish on a raid to a small settlement and theres a full on fist fight over who gets to be the first to paint their claws chrome.</p><p>(Along with their cheeks and ears and eyelids because whos there to tell them not to?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottled Glory

It came one day when Slit had been sent out on a raid without Nux. It wasn't the first time it had happened but it still made the driver salty that his lancer was out without him, since he'd been under the Organic Mechanic's razor at the time trying to get some fluid drained out of a cyst that had been getting him lightheaded because it had shouldered in on his jugular so far. He'd gotten back to the bunks where he'd left Slit, after making him promise to hang around and hold the fort so nobody stole his picture-flip or charcoal stick (everyone knew he kept them under his pillow so it wasn't enough just to leave them hidden any more), and found that every last inch of the barracks were empty of drive-ready War Boys. Only a couple of pups were left, fat little waddly things that had long since turned over every bunk in the place looking for goods.

Whenever a raid party came back from a trip they were always busy with new spoils or hopped up on glory anyhow, so nobody ever missed a couple of old toys if you managed to snag them. Even though he remembered his days as a pup Nux was in a foul enough mood to track down the little schlanger who had pilfered his coal stick, giving him a purple shoulder for his moxy and snatching someone's thread for not intervening. He retired to the top bunk that Slit usually coveted and hunkered over his one and only picture-flip, turning the pages carefully since they'd long back lost their gloss, staring at the images of guys with oily muscles and girls with their fat hidden away. It was a good way to pass the time. Mostly he looked at the big shining expanses of water and wondered if he'd ever live to see one.

It was endless hours before the raid party made it back. Nux had found another picture-flip in his spare time in turning over all the cots out of pure spite, and gone to get some licorice root for the sickness that always came after Organic bent you over his chair (the Citadel had plenty of it; there was a whole garden that was unsalvageable with a plant that had gotten so overgrown and buried yards down into the soil that now the root was free to anyone), but even nauseous and pissy as he was the sound of engines closing in had him looking over to the door and setting bets with himself on who would be first back in.

It was almost no surprise that it was Slit, tramping extra heavy in his boots and covered in orange dust, war clay tacky with it as he came straight over to the bunk without a word to the pups that tried to ask him if anyone had gotten Witnessed on the raid. He had some balls coming right the fuck over to their bunk after revving out on him like that, leaving him in the chair without so much as a 'by the fucking way'-

Nux swung for him with his head the second he pulled into range, snarling and throwing his reading material aside, hands flying to the rail of the cot as he brought his nut down hard, already panting-angry and gritting his teeth ready for impact.

The schlanger dodged, jerking to the side and making a noise of protest, like an irritated snarl that Nux was still clinging to a grudge six hours later.

"You DESERTER!" Nux spat out, like it was some four letter word that meant much worse. "You LEFT me in the chair, your own DRIVER! Who did you lance for?" He asked, turning to him and baring teeth past slit up lips. There was a hand on his scruff before he had chance to pull it off, yanking him out of the cot to collapse to the floor with a thunk before dragging him out of the barracks as a sack of boiling rage. How DARE that deserting sack of excrem dodge a well deserved headbutt? That chojo had it coming; he was going to spread around so much shit about him dodging a knock from a half-drained driver, Slit wouldn't be able to show his half-face around the mess hall for MONTHS after he was done with shitting on his reputation-

He was dragged along dusty corridors with the haste of someone still high off the adrenaline of a raid, a raid that Nux had badly needed. They'd been cooped up in the Citadel for days. It must have been a big one, and he wanted to pin Slit down and demand details almost as much as he wanted to punch another few scars onto his ugly snarling mug.

But Slit was still older and bigger, and as long as he dragged fast enough that Nux couldn't get his feet under him he was powerless to resist. They scrambled, dragging and thrashing, along the overpass that skimmed the garage, air newly foggy with guzzoline fumes and thick with the whoops of other War Boys. There were shouts about someone getting witnessed, and a new wife had been caught for Immortan, oh OF COURSE THERE HAD BEEN, IT WAS THE ONE RAID NUX HADN'T BEEN ON SINCE THE NEW SEASON.

"SLIT YOU SMEG, I'M GOING TO PUT THOSE STAPLES ON THE OTHER SIDE OF YOUR NUG! I'M GOING TO FILL YOU SO FULL OF HOLES THEY WON'T HAVE ENOUGH STRUTS IN THE _WORLD_ TO PATCH YOU BACK UP! YOU'RE GONNA DIE _WISHING_ YOU'D MISSED THE RAID, BECAUSE I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU ETERNAL SORRY FOR-"

He hit the ground with a full-throat grunt, Slit's boot landing hard on his shoulder as he shoved him down to keep him there and shot a look around. The older War Boy had a fat looking cheek like he was nursing a missing tooth, skin split up from what was unmistakably a fist. His clay was all smeared off, and there were bite marks scattered over his shoulders, with a smear of chrome aerosol on his nose and Nux wanted to hear hours of story over how it had got there.

A second of staring from the lancer had Nux snarling again, wanting to scrap with him and slam him into the cave wall, and he was about to claw the boot straight off his treacherous foot until the old Boy spat, something big and fat landing in his hand. Way too big to be a tooth. Way to firm to be a tongue.

"Can't you hold your squawk-box for ten seconds? Trust your lancer, pup." Slit snarled, voice more ragged and husky with age, worn with whooping and hollering on the raid.

"So you're my lancer again now?" Nux snarled, straining up despite the boot on his shoulder, wanting to lock heads and fight it out, desperate to get some sort of ache from exertion. He had been cooped up too long and they'd got to go out and DRIVE it wasn't FAIR.

"Quit your yapping and clap eyes on this." He grunted, holding out a small fat bottle in his gloved hand, still sooty from the drive. Nux didn't go quietly, loathe to go down without a fight, and it wasn't until Slit was kneeling over him with his knees pinning down his arms, and holding the spit-slick bottle right up near his face that he gave his attention enough to spot it was something new. And chrome.

"What is it? Liquor?"

"Nope. Figured you'd know, since you've got to make up for being so fuckin' skinny with knowing shit." Slit grumbled, pulling back a little and squinting down at it.

"Show it here!" Nux demanded again, already sore for the loss of the sight of it. It was shining, he knew that much. With a snort Slit held it back down, still pinning his driver so Nux couldn't clap paws on it, but in the light that shot through the walls in this corner of the colony he could see it sparkle and make out tiny stringy letters. "It says something!"

"Well get to reading it then." He snapped back, lifting a knee off his arm and pushing the prize into his hand, still warm and slick with spit. The boy hardly cared though, taking it quickly and sitting when he was let off the ground. Slit guarded the door fiercely, like he'd take a chunk out of Nux if he tried to flee with the goods. "I fought off all the other Boys for that. Better be able to tell me how to make use of it, you briner, or you'll be off the bunk for a week..."

Nux hissed him quiet, straining to get into a crack of light and hold up the bottle to read at the writing, squinting and making out the letters.

"Nuh... Nah... Nail... Nail paint." He worked out slow, looking over at Slit and looking back to it again. Paint was familiar. Nails were familiar too, they bolted shit together all the time down in the black thumb galley.

"PAINT?" Slit roared, tugging on his staples with how hard he was baring his teeth. "I TUSSLED WRETCH FOR _PAINT_?"

"Says it's called 'summer and shimmer'." Nux muttered, wanting to haul the little thing back at Slit as he lowered it. "No, I've seen this in picture-flips though." He insisted, heading back over to Slit who looked to be madder than before since he realised the chomp marks on his shoulders were for nothing. "When it comes in the fancy trapup there's a brush on the insides. You put it on and it makes your keratin gleam." He gestured to his bitten-up stumps, worked short with white war clay grubby under every claw.

Slit seemed to unstiffen just a little at that, still snarling and ready to bite down on Nux should any of it prove bullshit. Not that he'd get a chance now. Nux was a great fighter, and when he was ready for a tussle he could knock heads with nearly any War Boy and take them down. Especially Slit. He knew his moves too well by now and a jab to the shin always sent him tumbling.

"I'll be shiny. Glory be, brother, I'll beacon out on Fury Road, they'll all see me coming-" His voice was eager and breathy, eyes gleaming as he took in the tiny bottle of glory right up until Slit barked an interruption.

"YOU?" Slit started doing that weird huffy breathing again that he did when he got worked up. "You're forgetting I spilled for that shit, I get the first chrome-"

"You left me behind, you brought it to me, I get to try it!" Nux shouted back, snapping it close to his chest when Slit lunged for it, sinking his nails into Nux's wrist and trying to wrestle it out of his fingers. There was a scrap, one Nux had been dying for since he'd found the empty barracks, and they ended up against a wall with Slit's shoulders rubbed raw on the overhang, heads cracking together so hard it was a surprise the older one didn't go through the wall. He almost didn't give, Nux could see him gearing up to drive his knee someplace unsavoury, until Nux threw himself back and shoved the nail polish into his mouth, holding up a warning hand and pointing to his swallow-hole.

"AH'LL SCHWALLO!" He warned, pointing to Slit and readying to gulp it down. He'd swallowed bigger things, huge hunks of meat when there was a flesh van brought in off a hunt and it was every boy for themselves.

Slit stopped, panic in his eyes as he held up his hands and backed down. He always backed down.

"Alright, alright..." He grunted, sounding disgusted. "Fine. You go first."

"Nhh." Nux shook his head, pointing to the door. "Ah wan FOOD!"

"I'M NOT GETTING YOU FOOD!"

Nux raised his eyebrows, and made a big show of being about to swallow (also about to choke but oh god he couldn't let the lancer know that)-

"ALRIGHT ALRIGHT! SHIT, I'LL GET YOU FOOD! Don't go blockin up your gut when I'm gone." Slit muttered, looking incredibly salty about getting into that position. "If you swallow that I'm gettin Organic to cut it out of you. If it's a choice between you an the paint I'm choosin the paint."

He slunk off, giving him the nastiest stink eye he'd ever seen. Outside of the one where Nux had kicked him out of the top bunk and Slit had been told he wasn't allowed to lance because of the resulting broken wrist. That had been pretty fierce.

Nux felt pretty damn shiny as Slit scampered off to go get food, hawking up the bottle once he'd rounded the corner and looking it over. The cap stuck a little when he tried to twist it, the edge gummy with silver and spit and dust, but it came eventually. The smell was so strong. He had to hold it delicate since it seemed so small and easily wasted. The top /did/ have a little brush in it, he had been right, and felt like that triumph alone justified Slit having to go off and scavenge food for them. Without him the chrome would have been split all over the floor. And then nobody would have been glorified and coated in its goodness.

It wasn't too long before he got back, and Nux was nearly knocked off his haunches by how much he was carrying.

"Brother where'd you find-"

" _Everyone_ knows about the damned paint." He muttered, slamming down two ladened plates and a bowl. There was meat there. Real honest-to-halla meat. It was still dripping and that. Was that an apple? "They're knocking each other over trying to find favour with me." He grunted, scowling as he shoved a plate of food somehow bigger than his own towards the skinnier War Boy. "With _us._. They don't know what it's for. But they know I got it, and that it's chrome as Valhalla's gates. They want some."

"There isn't enough to go around." Nux said, but that didn't stop him grabbing the plate and diving into the guilt-food. It was hot. The meat must have come from an Imperator that wanted to impress Immortan. Probably Banger, he was always trying to find more chrome. Man dressed like a magpie, if a magpie could stitch together bottle caps.

"I know. But they don't." Slit muttered back, smile baring teeth for a second as they shared a smirk and Nux caught on. They could milk this for days. He could get more picture-flips. Parts for the auto. SHOES.

"Better eat up before word passes how little the bottle is."

Slit just laughed, digging into the bean paste and meat, scooping it into his mouth in a frenzy. They savaged the plates for minutes solid, not stopping until it was clean, and only afterwards when the plates were thrown aside and Slit had choked down the entire core of the apple - who knows where it had come from it was juicy as sin - did Nux pick up the paint again.

He clamped his hand down on his knee for a steady surface, eyebrows knitting together like a flesh mechanic about to make his first ever incision, and Slit grabbed up the paint to hold it steady for him.

"Careful with that." He warned, voice nearly a growl as Nux dipped the tiny dainty brush in the paint and it came out with a thick blob of chrome on the end. It barely made it onto the sliver of nail before dripping off, slithering out along the cuticle. He smeared it about with shaking fingers, whole hand wrapped around the tiny cap, drawing it away with a shaking breath.

"Glory..." Slit hissed, leaning in close enough to smell it. "It reeks like guzzlein!"

"Valhalla shines on us..." Nux breathed, eyes wide as he dipped the brush in again and moved to the next one. There were tense hissed breaths when he missed the nail sometimes, and fits of snickering when he finally daubed it right. He looked glorious, nails gleaming in the dim light of the room. When the other War Boys got an eyeful of that they'd be begging to give him food. He'd be able to barter for anything. He'd be a God amongst boys. Second still to Immortan, of course.

"My turn!" Slit demanded, wrestling the brush off Nux and dunking it in the paint, letting the other take the bottle back to hold it steady, but instead of pointing it at his nails and smearing he bore his teeth, and dragged the chrome over his incisors.

"What are you DOING?"

"I'll be ready for witness whenever, I'll- UGH!"

Slit looked ready to gag, touching the inside of his lip and hissing.

"Tastes worse than aerosol. How does it look?"

"Smeary. Let me do it." Nux said, wrinkling his nose and taking the brush back. Slit sat with his teeth bared for as long as it took for Nux to daub on paint to each nub, his cheeks twitching with effort to keep grinning by the end. When his grimace finally relaxed Nux moved onto the staples, shining them up where they'd dulled, and glittering the ones on his belly too. Blessing the healings with the chrome of high 'halla.

"Good." He finally nodded when it was all done, uneven as off-road but shiny none the less. Like a brand new axle. Slit went back to grinning even as it made his cheeks jump, looking around for a reflective surface.

"We gotta hide it." He said all solemn, and Nux nodded agreement. No way could they actually give it away. Ever. It took a bit of looking but they found a crack in the wall, one of many but this one was perfect, and managed to wedge the bottle in far enough that the tip of the cap (black like the crevice) was only visible if you looked real hard. Nobody would ever know it was there.

Nux couldn't stop staring at his nails all the way back to the barracks, and they were almost jumped when they headed back to their bunk, swaggering all the way. His fingers were admired so much he felt like he'd already been witnessed, and one Boy offered to fight him right there, kill him so he could be sent up to Valhalla and sit as the guest of honour. Slit bashed him back, and the rest of the Boys immediately backed him up, kicking the guy until he was purple with his mistake.

They were hailed like Imperators all night long. And when he finally turned to sleep, Nux was dozing on a palm-thick stack of new picture-flips.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing Mad Max so I hope I did a good job! Hope you liked it.
> 
> Wait until they find a pack of bedazzles.


End file.
